Pick up those pieces
by seiauton
Summary: We live, we bleed, we die. For we are broken and always will be. SASUSAKU-DRABBLES
1. Another perspective

All her life, she'd loved him. At first, the feeling had been shallow, driven by nothing but his looks and cool demeanor. Little did she know of his broken self and neither did she care. But the girl grew and so had her heart. While she'd always been smart, she'd come to realize, that one thing she lacked: the ability to hide her emotions. And thus, she had not been able to see through another's facade. Sasuke had been no exception in this.

But as she'd experienced heartbreak, as she learned what it meant to truly hurt, she started to fake that smile. Loneliness resided in her heart, especially once Naruto left her as well. And so she trained, however, the hole inside her only continued to grow. She feared it'd swallow her whole one day. She tried to ignore it but she couldn't.

At night, she'd find herself unable to sleep, despite her exhaustion. Her thoughts wouldn't let her rest, for, always, they lingered on that face, this saddened and yet stoic mask. And for the first time in her life, she understood him. She held onto what little she knew about him, tried to get behind what it was that drove him, really. How much of this boy had been real? And what a coping mechanism created to protect himself? She wanted to help him and while she knew she shouldn't and that it was stupid, there was no helping her feelings. And before she noticed, her love had matured. It became selfless and pure. But that only added to her suffering.

As she saw him again, it was as if she'd burst. Disbelief had paralyzed her. This boy, this man, he was not Sasuke-kun, not anymore. Perhaps, she'd thought, he'd never been.

It didn't stop her.

Why she held onto him, she did not know. There was no particular reason for it; this wasn't about his looks anymore. It was … _stronger_. The more she learned about the person he'd become, the more she wanted to ease his suffering, for, surely, there had to be a reason for someone like him to become a person this cruel. The boy from back then, what had changed him? She wanted to know. Her heart had long since stopped caring for her own well-being. And while one could consider her naive, she was not.

What needed to be done had not passed her by. His death would free both him and Naruto and, perhaps, even herself. However, she still did not care about herself. Never had her existence been of any significance.

As his hand had pressed against her throat, she'd been unable to hate him. He'd defended himself. And, for a moment, she'd wondered if he'd known, if he had thought of her as well. She hated herself, her weakness, … her _stupid_ illusion of love. Was it love? At this point, it might've been obsession. She did not care, for all that mattered was him and Naruto and everyone but her, for all her life, she'd learned to disregard herself.

For she'd never been good enough and never would be.


	2. Deeper

**TW:** Self harm

* * *

 _Remember the pain, for you are the pain. Catch it, hold it close, so no one can take it. It's yours- mine. All that I am._

There was blood on his hands. Nothing special, routine, except for this time it was his own. From his wrist there dwelled the droplets of blood, merging together into one see of crimson. And while Sasuke didn't particularly like anything, he found it to be beautiful.

He barely noticed the pain, he'd grown numb to it. Nothing but red, blood and … _joy_. The sensation was divine. When was the last time he'd felt like this, felt happy? Some weeks ago, his mind suggested immediately, as he'd sat at this very place, adding scars the same way he did now. He hid them carefully, so no one could see. Normally, that was. But when he cut himself, he could look at them. They suited him, he found, who he was. He did not know the person he was perceived as. Neither was he aware of the person that hid underneath. Nor did he care.

He was Sasuke, the Uchiha, the survivor. And the traitor that had tossed away his one chance of healing. Simple as that.

The blood had dried. Turning his arm, he inspected the crusts and wondered why his body even made the effort. He didn't _want_ to be whole again because then his mind would no longer fit. He was broken there, too.

Hiding behind a facade, he considered it normal. Perhaps his skin and veins had taken up the same habit and that's why they were so reluctant on letting him die. … Perhaps it was just the natural regenerative process. It didn't matter for the result remained unchanged. One day, he'd cut deep, deeper than now, as to make sure the blood would not harden. Hopefully soon.


	3. Endurance

He pressed his lips against hers as soon as the door fell shut behind them. It had been so long since they'd last shared air like this and yet Sasuke immediately felt them click together like two differently shaped puzzle pieces. While, at first, they'd struggled with making things right, they now knew how to put the fitting edges together.

Too long. His muscles ached from travel, his mind was dulled from the struggles of that day. He'd got to see their daughter again, after so many years. His heart had soared upon recognizing her but what lingered was the guilt of not doing so instantly. He was a terrible father despite carrying only the best of intentions.

Maybe he wasn't suited for the role after all. Maybe he kissed Sakura not just because he had missed her so dearly but because only she could disperse the anguish that tainted his mind.

For a second, he pulled away to properly look at her. The flesh on her arm was smooth for Sakura had already treated her wound. Sasuke placed his palm where the sore had been and then moved it so he could brush over it with his thumb. His hand was rough but it had always been; his sword hand, his only hand.

When he leaned in a second time, his movements were less hasty but not any less quick. "I missed you," he murmured just a second before tasting her again. He would brush-up on their memories of being together so he could pull them up when on the road.

But he wanted to stay. He was drawn to wandering and exploring and yet none of it mattered when he was on his own. The days of their joint travel were his most cherished adventures, a time of carelessness and freedom and love that had slowly blossomed and deepened and … had resulted in the most _beautiful_ little girl Sasuke had ever laid eyes on.

He deepened the kiss. He closed his eyes. There surfaced a sadness that twisted his gut, that wanted to strangle him with his insides and kick the bucket away from under his feet. Still, Sasuke would go on. He'd leave the next day and return once it was safe.

For love, he'd endure the deepest depths of his hell.


End file.
